


Why Do We Fall?

by RosesAndRevolutions



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22919158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesAndRevolutions/pseuds/RosesAndRevolutions
Summary: Peter's life changes in an instant and suddenly he's forced to reconsider every plan he had for the future.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team & Original Character(s), Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 59





	1. Unexpected Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after the events of the snap and reverse-snap, where Tony miraculously survives semi-unscathed. Mainly because I selfishly want more IronDad and I love the idea of Tony continuing to mentor Peter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Tony, I’ve got my eye on two guys in the warehouse. Want me to take the kill shot?” Clint asked, as he drew the arrow back on his bow. 

He was perched on the roof of the nearest building, the rough concrete beneath his knees wearing down the leather of his uniform. The Avengers had spent the better part of the week tracking down a local crime boss who was making a fortune trafficking humans off-world, and they’d managed to find the gang’s holding cells in a rundown, large three-story warehouse in the Meatpacking District. Clint had spent almost an hour watching the warehouse for motion, and these two men were the first he’d seen.

“Negative, Hawkeye. I want to get some information out of these guys if we can. We don’t know what else they might be hiding in that building. See if you can slow them down a bit.”

“Roger,” the archer responded as he shifted the aim of his arrows from the heart down to the knees. He took a deep breath in, stilling the movement of his bow, and then released his bowstring on the exhale. The two men fell to the ground, their hands grabbing their thigh and their stunned eyes searching the window next to them for some understanding of what had occurred in that instant. “They’re ready when you’re ready, Iron Man,” Clint responded satisfyingly. 

“Roger that, Hawkeye. We’ve got our hands full right now, but I’ll get back to you. Keep watch on that warehouse.” 

He, Rhodey and Hulk were doing their best to stop a spacecraft loaded up with the gang’s latest group of captives from leaving the atmosphere. Tony and War Machine were using the full power of their suits to push against the spacecraft while the Hulk ripped sections of the ship apart in an attempt to disable to craft. 

In this moment Tony really wished that someone like Steve was available for this mission. While he was grateful for the help, Hulk lacked a certain finesse and Tony was more than a little worried Bruce’s alter ego might rip the spacecraft to shreds before Tony could get the captives inside to safety. On that thought, Tony looked over to see one side of the spacecraft erupt in flames. Hulk was ripping out wiring and lines near the craft’s main engines, spraying fuel along the exterior of the ship that instantly combusted with the flames from the engines.

“Hulk,” Tony shouted, trying to get the green man’s attention. The flames were starting to grow, engulfing nearly half the ship, but Tony couldn’t spare a hand to extinguish the fire. It was taking nearly all of the power from he and Rhodey’s suits to counter the motion of the spacecraft. 

“Focus on the engines. See if you can get them to turn off.” 

Tony gestured the head of his suit toward the structure holding the engine’s nacelle to the spacecraft. Structurally it should be the weakest part of the craft and if he could get the Hulk to disable the engines then he could get this spacecraft to safety and return his attention to the task of tracking down the man responsible for this operation. 

Out of the corner of his eye Tony spotted the tell-tale red and blue of the Spider-Man uniform, swinging into action. His blood pressure instantly rose.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” the young voice of Peter Parker rang over the comms. He shot a web towards the spacecraft and rode it up to join the Hulk. Not knowing what the Hulk was trying to accomplish, Peter climbed over to the front of the spacecraft to meet his mentor face to face.

“No. Don’t you dare,” Tony warned. The heads-up display on his suit read 1:17pm and Peter Parker was definitely supposed to be in AP Chemistry right now. “How did you even know about this?”

“Mr. Stark, Iron Man is holding up a spaceship in this middle of Manhattan. That kind of stuff makes the news, you know,” he responded cheekily. Ever since Tony had banned his use of Karen at school, Peter set up a news alert on his phone for stories related the Avengers. It wasn’t as good as having real-time comms, but with all of the bloggers and new sources these days, he found that he really didn’t miss out on much. 

“Plus, school’s almost out for the summer.”

“I don’t have time for this right now. We’re all a little busy if you haven’t noticed,” he answered sharply. Tony wasn’t in the mood for Peter’s childish irreverence today.

Hulk was taking his direction and aiming hits towards the engines, but it was slow progress. The fuel in his suit was starting to run low and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to dedicate full power to his thrusters. His number one priority was getting back to the warehouse the Clint was currently monitoring and he was starting to second guess whether rescuing these people was really worth losing out on the valuable intelligence that was no doubt being destroyed in the warehouse in that moment.

“Tony,” the archer came back over the comms. “I don’t think one arrow each was enough to keep these guys down. Do you want me to give them another? They’re starting to get back up.”

The team couldn’t afford to let two potentially valuable sources of information get away.

“No, I’m sending Webs your way,” Tony replied, cursing to himself. Peter was a valuable member of the team but he still hadn’t learned to get his priorities straight and Tony hated that by using him in the fight, he was giving Peter another reason to believe that being an Avenger was more important than being Peter Parker. Tony had gone down that same path many years before and he didn’t want the kid to make the same mistake.

“Yessss, Mr. Stark. Thank you!” 

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “You go in and you web up those guys. You make sure they aren’t going to move an inch in the next hour or so that it might take me to wrap this up, and then you get the hell out of here. You’re supposed to be in school right and if I ping your location in the next thirty minutes and you aren’t sitting in your AP Chemistry classroom, I’m taking the suit away for two weeks.” 

Tony hated to be harsh with the kid. This really wasn’t the time to be having this conversation but he wanted Peter to learn a lesson. School comes before everything else. Peter might be brilliant but no college in the world is going to take someone who flunked out of high school for truancy. 

“Do you copy?” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Wrap up the bad guys and get back to school,” Peter answered dejectedly. It was June of his junior year and he was officially bored to tears with school. He liked applied physics and applied chemistry, but most of what he learned in school was theory. His weekends at the Avenger’s compound working in the lab with Bruce or in the workshop with Tony were when he truly felt most excited by science. It was an indescribable feeling. Sometimes he wished he could fast-forward through the next few years of his life, so he could get to the job he was meant to be doing. Working side-by-side with the Avengers. 

Peter jumped off the spacecraft, leaving an angry Tony and enraged Hulk behind.

“Tones,” Rhodey spoke, over their private comms. “That might’ve been a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“I don’t really care,” Tony answered honestly. “The kid is two months away from being seventeen and if he wants to do this job then it’s about time he starts acting like an adult.” 

After the reverse snap, Peter revisited his decision to join the Avengers. When Tony originally extended the offer, Peter was still adjusting to life as Spider-Man. Girls were almost always on the forefront of his mind and he loved the freedom and independence of being the friendly neighborhood superhero, without the burden and responsibility of being an Avenger. After the reverse snap, Tony noticed an almost immediate change in the young man. There was an immediacy to his actions and a rabid desire to participate as an Avenger. Tony worried that he was trying to take on too much responsibility too soon. Trying to compensate for something that happened during the fight. He knew that Peter was facing lingering issues from the trauma of facing Thanos and the after-effects of the snaps, but he really hadn’t had the chance to discuss any of this with Peter. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he hadn’t made the time to discuss it with the boy in the year or so since the events occurred. It was no secret that Tony avoided emotional interactions like the plague, but today was a reminder that he needed to push through whatever made him uncomfortable and have a talk with the boy. Just not right now.

“I think-“, James started but he was cut off. 

“We aren’t having this conversation right now. Focus on the mission.”

And Tony was right. Hulk had managed to rip one of the engines from the craft but was struggling to reach the engine on the opposite side. They were being fired upon by someone on the ground. Tony couldn’t be certain in that moment if the person firing on the ship was trying to destroy evidence or was just another enemy of this crime boss, but now really wasn’t the time to be facing two separate threats. FRIDAY scanned the area for the source of the attack and homed in on a figure standing on the far-side of the warehouse from Clint. 

“Hawkeye, we’re under attack from a ground source on the opposite side of the warehouse. Do you have eyes?”

“Negative, Tony. I can see the grenades being launched but give me a minute or two to find a better position.”

Tony took a glance at his HUD. FRIDAY was showing a complete failure of engine one on the spacecraft but an 80% efficiency on engine two, and he and Rhodey were running out of steam. Literally.

“Try to see if you can make that seconds instead of minutes.”

“Roger that. I’ve got eyes on Spider-Man as well. He just swung into the warehouse.”

“Good to hear. Webs, stay with the guys until Clint returns to his post. Make sure they don’t move.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Stark. I’ve got ‘em pretty solidly webbed to the ground but I’ll stand by until I hear back.”

“Roger that, Spider-Man. Hawkeye?”

“I’m making my way across the street to find the attacker. Should be in range within 30 seconds.”

Clint jumped off the last rung of the fire escape ladder and took a quick glance around before running to the side of the warehouse. His light footsteps carried him around the back of the building and he paused for a moment at the corner to load an arrow. He drew the bowstring back and pushed the tip of the arrow out into the alleyway where, judging by the noise, the attacker was loading another round of explosives into a rocket propelled grenade. Quickly but quietly, he pushed himself further into the alleyway. As the attacker was adjusting the RPG to a comfortable place on her shoulder he released the string. The soft whoosh of the arrow was preceded only by the sound of a grenade being launched. 

Almost simultaneously the attacker fell to the ground, the arrow sliced cleanly through her neck, and the immediate and painful searing of heat flashed across Clint’s right cheek. As if time was slowing down, Clint instinctively turned his head to face the warehouse the instant the glass from the windows exploded. He moved to shield his eyes from the debris as his mind registered the destruction of the structure next to him. A flash of pain registered across his temple before his world went dark.

The attacker had eliminated her second target.

An eerie silence fell over the comms before a timid voice spoke, “…Peter?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do y’all think? This is my first time writing in this forum, so I’d love any comments/feedback/suggestions you have to offer!
> 
> Ironically this chapter is like the most actiony Avengery chapter I’m likely to write for this story, so it may not be the best for judging future chapters. This is intended to be an IronDad recovery story full of whump and angst for our dear, sweet Peter Parker.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and kudo’d my first chapter!! I really, really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this one. 
> 
> Writing doesn't come naturally to me but I do enjoy trying, so please leave comments and feedback if you have any :) 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe in these crazy times!

Quickly but quietly, he pushed himself further into the alleyway. As the attacker was adjusting the RPG to a comfortable place on her shoulder he released the string. The soft whoosh of the arrow was preceded only by the sound of a grenade being launched. 

Almost simultaneously the attacker fell to the ground, arrow sliced cleanly through her neck, and the immediate and painful searing of heat flashed across Clint’s right cheek. As if time was slowing down, Clint instinctively turned his head to face the warehouse the instant the glass from the windows exploded. He moved to shield his eyes from the debris as his mind registered the destruction of the structure next to him.

The attacker had eliminated her second target.

\---

The helmet occluded all sound, but he saw the flicker of yellow in the corner of his eye and felt the bone chilling rattle of a shockwave from within his suit. The suit was on auto-pilot, currently using all of its might, along with Rhodey’s, to counteract the force of the spacecraft, so his mind took the opportunity to disconnect from his body.

Yellow… Rattle... 

His mind was processing the events slowly. Shaping the experience in his mind one piece at a time. 

Yellow… Rattle... Explosion... 

Yellow… Rattle... Explosion... Warehouse…

An eerie silence fell over the comms. 

Yellow… Rattle... Explosion... Warehouse “…Peter?”

They were maybe the softest words he’d ever spoken, and he wasn’t entirely sure they even left the tip of his tongue. 

“-o, -ny. -o” Like a punch to his chest, his mind slammed back into his body. He could vaguely hear the comm over the sound of his pounding heartbeat. “-t -own -ere!” His hands were suddenly sweaty against the cold metal of his suit and he could feel his body shaking from the shock running through his system. He turned his head slowly, looking over to his best friend. Rhodey retracted the helmet of his suit and Tony could see that his mouth was forming words to the rhythm of the sounds filtering in over the speaker in his helmet.

“Go, Tony. Go! Get down there!”

The spacecraft was no longer under fire from the ground. Clint had managed to take down the attacker and it gave Hulk the chance he needed to do his favorite thing. Smash. Tony looked over to the far side of the ship where he was making quick work of the second engine. The metal of the spacecraft like putty in the large, green hands of its destroyer.

“FRIDAY, report. Status of the spacecraft.”

“Sir, engine one is completely failed. Engine two is fully operational but my analysis shows structural support for the engine is deteriorating rapidly. By my calculations, engine two will be non-operational in forty-two seconds.”

“Tony,” the pleading tone his best friend rang out over the comms again. “I’ve got this covered. Get down there.”

Tony needed no more reassurances from his friend. In the span of a minute his mind had switched from disconnected and fuzzy to laser focus. The adrenaline rush from his flight or fight response kicking in.

“FRIDAY, report. Status of Peter Parker.”

Tony was trying hard to keep the panic out of his voice. He didn’t know what was going on down there but what he did know was that this wasn’t the time to fall apart. 

“Sir, Mr. Parker’s communication device has been off-line for one minute and twelve seconds.”

That could mean anything, Tony rationalized. The shockwave from the blast could have been enough to bring the communications system down. Peter may have turned his comms off, for some reason. There’s still no need for panic.

“FRIDAY, scan for heat signatures within the building.”

“Sir, large sections of the structure are currently on fire. It is currently impossible for me to distinguish between…”

“FRIDAY, limit your search to temperatures within the normal human body range,” Tony interrupted. He remembered that due to Peter’s spidery transformation his core temperature ran a little colder than the average human body, so he added, “FRIDAY, expand your search range to five degrees beyond the lower boundary and limit the size and shape of the signature to that of a human body.” 

“Sir, I detect twenty-seven signatures of heat within the search parameters.”

“Jesus,” Tony whispered. He’d silenced his communication device so he wouldn’t be distracted by the chaos of situation up in the air, so that comment was more to himself than anyone else. “Twenty-seven people.”

“FRIDAY, within those twenty-seven signatures, in how many do you detect a heartbeat?”

“Sir, three.”

Tony’s heart dropped. 

\---

Tap… tap… tap…

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of his consciousness Peter could recognize the continuous tap of something soft against his neck. His nose detected the smell of singed hair, of burnt skin, of smoke. He could hear creaking, the sound of steel scraping against steel, the thrumming of his own heartbeat, and far off in the distance, the crackling of flames. 

These sounds and smells, they were all foreign to him. Something was tickling his nose and as his awareness was starting to return, he could feel beads of sweat running down his face. On each exhale, the warm and humid air of his breathe was reflected back against his face. And as his chest rose and fell, his stomach scraped against something rough.

Sensation was beginning to return to his body and he felt strangely calm, dazed. 

Breathing was uncomfortable. Not painful but just difficult. His mouth was hung open, greedily stealing large gulps of air, but it felt like none of it was making its way down to his lungs. There was nothing supporting his head. It felt like it was hanging, swinging with each inhale and exhale. 

His brain was trying to put all of the pieces together but nothing fit. The image he was conjuring in his mind of his situation was warped and soft around the edges. He was underneath something, the air around him was hot. Soft fabric was stretched tightly across his skin. Something was pressing into his back. Each sensation and thought drifted in but then drifted back out before his brain could latch on. He closed his eyes again and drifted off.

\---

Tony touched down in the alleyway beside the flaming warehouse. He extinguished his thrusters and then ran over to the crumpled figure of the archer, passing the now-dead body of the woman who was responsible for all of this destruction on the way. His heart was pounding through his chest.

“Clint,” he spoke as he tapped the unconscious man on the cheek. “Clint, wake up.”

The man’s eyes opened wide before closing again, He raised a hand to his head, groaning. 

“Ah, what the hell?” He pulled his hand down from the side of his head and saw the blood covering his gloves.

“We were attacked, Clint. Do you remember where Peter is?”

“Whaa?” he answered confused. His eyes still fixated on the blood covering his glove. “I don..” His brain not fully processing the question.

“Peter. Do you remember where Peter went. I can’t raise him on comms.”

Tony was trying to be patient with the Avenger but sections of the building beside him were in flames and he had no idea where to even begin looking for the boy. 

“Other side. Third floor. Middle.” 

That was enough for Tony.

“FRIDAY, cross reference that description with heat sources you traced earlier and give me a place to start looking.”

\---

It had been twenty-two minutes since Tony began searching the building. The first two heat signature were a false positive and he was on his third try.

“Sir, there is a heat signature four and half feet due north of your current position. The building is showing 67 percent structural integrity and the percentage of area currently experiencing temperature in excess of 1000 degrees Fahrenheit is 43 percent.”

“FRIDAY, maintain monitoring of the building but silence all alerts unless critical. Use your own judgement on the definition of critical.”

The area in front of him was a mess of beams, concrete blocks, splintered wood, and exposed wires. Utter chaos. A cloud of thick dust filled the air. The light on his suit was no help, reflecting off the dust and scattering the light back into his eyes. But he squinted and searched for any sign of the boy. Gently, but with the urgency of a man inside of an unstable, burning building, Tony continued to move large chunks of concrete and pieces of rubble out of his way, wary of touching anything that might be providing structural support to the wreckage of the building. 

As he dug his fingers into the dust, working to unbury another obstacle, his hand brushed against something soft. He pulled his hand back with surprise, and then gently lowered it down again into the pile of dust. Definitely something soft. Unmoving, but warm. Something fabric.

“FRI? Is this him?” He asked desperately but didn’t wait for a response. There was a large plank of wood obstructing his view. He took a quick glance around the plank, looking to see if it was safe to move, and seeing no issue he stretched his arms to grab the full width of the plank and lifted it into the air. He set the rough piece of wood off to the side and turned his head back to rubble before him.

He was greeted by the unmistakable, albeit bloodied, red and blue of the young superhero. 

“Oh my God.” Tony didn’t even believe in a God, but “oh my God.” 

The sight in front of him was worse than any horror his mind had conjured up on those nights when the boy stayed out on patrol past curfew. Nights when Tony was sure he’d been captured by Hydra or run out of web fluid mid-swing. That was his imagination but this… this was real. Real and in front of him right now.

He retracted the helmet and gloves of his suit and took another step toward Peter. The boy was only half-visible beneath the rubble, and large sections of his suit and mask were torn and melted. The lower half of his body was still buried but Tony could see his torso, and the faint rise and fall of his chest. His back arched unnaturally over a broken slab of concrete beneath him and his head was angled back, mouth wide open, and inhaling dirt and smoke with every shallow breath. 

He knelt down beside the boy, reaching a shaking hand out to softly touch Peter’s neck. At this proximity Tony could hear the soft whistle of a strained inhale. His breathing sounded painfully difficult but Tony couldn’t tell if it was from trauma or the awkwardness of the position. His fingers could feel a pulse. Not strong but it was there.

Tony looked up to the boy’s face. His mask had been shredded in the explosion, and sections of his face and hair were now visible beneath.

“Peter,” he whispered softly. “Peter, can you hear me?”

No response. Not even the movement of eyes beneath the lid or the quickening of a heartbeat. Peter was out cold. With his slack features, Peter reminded Tony of just how young he actually was. He wasn’t the scrawny kid Tony had recruited all those years ago but he was still in high school and definitely not old enough to be trapped in a burning building. 

Tony shook himself out of the reverie and got back to the task of assessing Peter. Aside from the uncertain condition of the boy’s back, his chest seemed relatively clear of damage, perhaps saved by the large plank of wood that fell on top him. His left arm was twisted awkwardly behind a piece of debris beneath him and his right arm was blistered and an angry shade of red around the melted material of the suit. 

His eyes traced a pattern up the boy’s damaged arm and down the torso, until Peter’s legs vanished beneath the rubble. He dug his hands through more dirt and broken pieces of concrete, gently lifting them off pile, until his hands hit something firm and unmovable. He cleared the rubble around it and what was left was a massive steel pillar. The kind that only twenty minutes ago would have been holding up the building.

He could see a section one of the boy’s legs extending out the other side but the middle of his body was pinned beneath the beam. His first instinct was to use the strength of his suit to lift the enormous column of steel off of Peter’s legs but freeing him wasn’t a one-man job and what little medical knowledge he possessed told him that might not be the smartest move. 

“Rhodey,” he called up to his best friend. “I need you to-“

“Sir, my analysis says the building is currently showing 29% structural integrity and decreasing exponentially,” the AI system cut in.

“Shit,” Tony swore. “SHIT! I don’t have time for this.”

“Rhodey,” he tried again. “I need you to get down here ASAP.”

“Tony, we’ve got the ship back on the ground. SHIELD’s here and we’re unloading passengers right now.”

“Rhodes, I found the boy and its bad. I don’t have a lot of time and I need your help,” Tony pleaded. “Is Bruce still green?”

“Yeah, man. He is,” a slightly out of breath War Machine responded. 

Shit. “What about SHIELD? Is medical on site?”

“Yes, I’ll grab a team and bring them with me. Is Hawkeye there?”

“I found him unconscious outside the building. No serious injuries and I couldn’t wait on him to get up.”

“Understood,” Rhodey tried to reassure his best friend. “I’ve got your location. It’ll take me two minutes to get to you by suit. The medical team can follow with a jet. Got it?”

“He’s trapped so we’re both stuck here. Be fast.”

“Stay safe, Tones.”

Not knowing what else to do, Tony cleared off the last of the small pieces of rubble covering the boy and sat down beside him. The air was thick with heat and dust and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to see and breathe. He put up his helmet. 

“FRIDAY, can you…” he hesitates, maybe not wanting to hear the answer. “FRIDAY, can you run a scan on Peter?”

“Sir, the debris obscures my ability to take an accurate reading.”

Nevermind. Knowing isn’t going to change anything at this point. The boy’s eyes were still closed. FRIDAY had set up a monitor on the console of his helmet with the Peter’s stats. Heartbeat was weak but holding steady. His lungs were probably full of dust and smoke, but there was nothing Tony could do about it right now. He was at a loss. He couldn’t think of a single thing to do to help Peter, so he turned his attention to an exit strategy.

The building was unstable. The path to get to Peter was treacherous and very possibly aflame by now. Rhodey’s suit could handle it but he wasn’t sure what the SHIELD team would be working with. He and Rhodey needed to be prepared to get Peter out of the building themselves, and they were going to have to move fast. 

“FRIDAY, run a structural analysis on this beam. What happens when we move it?”

“Sir, my scans indicate the beam is nearly 45 feet long and there are several elements being supported by it at this time.”

“Any of those critical to the structure of the building?”

“Sir, my scans indicate that moving the beam should not impact the stability of the structure, but there will likely be some shifting from minor support elements.”

“Thanks, FRI. We’ll take our chanc-,” the rumbling sound of a section of the building collapsing stole his attention. “FRI, status?”

“Sir, structural stability is rapidly deteriorating. My analysis predicts complete loss of stability in under 17 minutes”

Shit. “Rhodey, where are you?” he called out to his best friend.

“Making my way to you two right now. My display shows you 30 feet ahead of me.”

Tony whipped his head back and forth but couldn’t see any sign of the man. The temperature had risen 30 degrees in the past five minutes and his suit was starting to have trouble keeping him cool. Sweat was pouring into his eyes. He looked down at the still-unconscious Peter, grateful he wasn’t awake to experience this moment but terrified for the boy at the same time. There was little Tony could do to protect him right now and that thought made his stomach twist. 

“I’m here, Tony. I’m here!” Rhodey shouted, and on those words Tony could see the light from the helmet of his friend. “What’s the situation?”

“The building’s not going to hold up. We’ve gotta move fast.” Tony exclaimed as Rhodey moved to kneel beside Peter, taking in the damage for himself. He ran a hand gently over Peter’s neck and back, before moving over to space where his hips and legs were buried. 

“God, there’s no telling what kind of damage this thing has done,” Rhodey pondered, as another rumble was heard in the distance. 

“We don’t have time, Rhodey,” Tony shook his friend from his thoughts. “This building’s coming down. I need your help to move him.”

“We can’t move him,” Rhodey exclaimed. 

“Rhodey, we don’t have a choice! I need you to lift the beam. I’m going to pull him out,” and Tony positioned himself behind Peter’s head, hands maneuvering under Peter’s shoulders. 

“No, wait,” Rhodey shouted. “Jesus… At least make sure you’ve got his neck and back supported.” Tony shifted his position. “This isn’t the way to do this, Tony. Let’s get some more people in here.”

“We’re out of options, Rhodey. I’d rather he die on an operating table than in a burning building,“ Tony responded with venom in his voice. This discussion was over.

“Fine, Tony,” he shook his head. There was no winning this argument and the longer they debated the more time Peter spent trapped. “Where should I go?” 

“The beam extends another 30 feet that direction,” Tony’s hands were full supporting Peter’s body so he nodded his helmet in the direction off to the right. “Find the end and lift it up. I’ll pull him out and then you can drop it. Go!”

Rhodey used his repulsors to maneuver himself to the end of the beam without shifting any of the weight on top of Peter. He wedged his hands under the base of the steel pillar and commanded his suit to push him off the ground.

Tony kept a firm hold on Peter and shifted his body to cover the chest and face of the vulnerable young superhero. The movement of the beam was shifting the objects around him and he could hear the ping of concrete and metal hitting the back of his suit. Where five minutes ago he was too scared to touch the boy for fear of hurting him, every instinct in his body screamed to hold the boy close to himself, entirely oblivious to whatever new damage this movement might be inflicting upon Peter. 

“It’s off, Tony. I’ve got it off,” Rhodey shouted. 

Tony cradled Peter’s neck and back in his hands and pulled the boy out from beneath the beam. Dragging his limp body across the ground until he was sure they were clear of the structure. “I’ve got him. You can put it down.” Tony looked down at the relaxed face of the young superhero and then up at the display on his helmet. Peter’s heart rate indicated that the boy was anything but relaxed. 

“Jesus, Tony. I don’t even…” Rhodey’s voice was shaking.

Tony was so caught up that he didn’t hear his friend approach. He looked over to see Rhodey staring down at the boy’s legs. 

“Not now. Help me. I’ve got his neck and back. I need you to support his hips and legs.”

“Tones…” Rhodey looked at him with fear in his voice.

“I don’t know what else to do, Rhodey” Tony pleaded, “we have to go!”

“Sir,” FRIDAY interrupted, “structural stability is at 11%. You must leave now.”

Without hesitation, Rhodey knelt down beside Tony and threw away every instinct he had about treating a patient in the field. He slipped his forearm under the boy’s knees, careful not to disturb the bone protruding from Peter’s left thigh, and used the leverage to lift the boy off the ground enough to wedge his other arm under Peter’s hips. 

“FRIDAY, link our suits,” Tony commanded. “Take us out of here.”

The autopilot lifted Tony and Rhodey together, keeping Peter’s body fixed between them, and carried the three of them through the smoke and dust and out an opening in the now-destroyed roof. They touched down next to the team of SHIELD doctors and nurses, standing by with a gurney and a quinjet. The gurney was rolled in front of them and they coordinated lowering Peter’s body down onto the narrow bed. 

The instinct to remain near to Peter was strong within Tony, as he kept his hand beneath the boy’s neck, walking beside him as the gurney was rolled toward the jet. The shock of the past few minutes was starting to catch up with him as he stared down at the almost lifeless boy in front of him.

“Sir, I need you to step back,” Tony was gently but forcibly instructed by a nurse standing beside him. She was holding a cervical collar in her hands a stern look on her face.

“I…” he stammered, not really sure how to articulate his thoughts. “Compound…” his mouth was starting to catch up to his brain. “I have a team at the compound. They know how to treat him. Take him there,” he rushed, and then released his hand from Peter and took a step back. 

He looked down at the oxygen mask that had been pulled over Peter’s face, the electrodes that were being applied across the exposed parts of his chest, and the IV that had already been started in the crook of his relatively un-injured right arm, before moving his eyes to the stark white of the fabric beneath Peter’s hips that was now soaked through with blood. 

“He’s hemorrhaging,” a doctor exclaimed, as the monitor of Peter’s heartrate on Tony’s helmet console went haywire, and Tony froze where he stood as the gurney was rushed up the ramp of the jet.

In his peripheral Tony could see Rhodey run up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before Tony tore off his helmet and vomited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! What do you think is going to happen next?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of the very kind people who read, reviewed, and kudo’d my first and second chapters!! I’ve been writing this as a way of escaping from the craziness of everything going on in the world right now, so I’m terribly inconsistent in my writing/posting schedule. I always challenge myself to finish everything I start, though, so we’ll get there eventually! 
> 
> I’m keeping this one short (more of an interlude) just to get myself back in the swing of things.

He looked down at the oxygen mask that had been pulled over Peter’s face, the electrodes that were being applied across the exposed parts of his chest, and the IV that had already been started in the crook of his relatively un-injured right arm, before moving his eyes to the stark white of the fabric beneath Peter’s hips that was now soaked through with blood. 

“He’s hemorrhaging,” a doctor exclaimed, as the monitor of Peter’s heartrate on Tony’s helmet console went haywire, and Tony froze where he stood as the gurney was rushed up the ramp of the jet.

In his peripheral Tony could see Rhodey run up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before Tony tore off his helmet and vomited. 

\---

Tony paced the cold metal floor of the MedBay landing deck, using a wet rag Rhodey handed to him to wipe the smoke and vomit from his face. He and Rhodey arrived at the east wing of the Compound four minutes earlier, their suits capable of transporting them to them much faster than the medical jet carrying the injured body of his young protégé, and his nerves weren’t doing a good job of handling the wait. Tony shed the bulky exterior of his suit moments after they arrived and was now left in a sweat-drenched pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt from some concert in his younger days he was too drunk to ever remember attending.

Several minutes into the flight, the heads-up display on his visor that was maintaining a monitor of Peter’s vitals suddenly cut out. His own heart skipped a beat at the sudden loss of connection but the rational part of his brain assumed it must mean the paramedics had cut the suit from Peter’s body. Tony concealed the transponder for emitting health and tracking data on all Avengers in the symbol on their chest, and cutting the suit away was likely one of the first steps a paramedic would take in assessing his condition. That assumption wasn’t encouraging, necessarily, but at least he knew the kid was being watched over by the best medical services a billionaire’s money could buy.

“..ony… Tony!”

He snapped his head up. He hadn’t even noticed his best friend calling his name.

“You’ve got to take some deep breaths, man,” Rhodey spoke, as he walked over and put his fingertips to the inside of Tony’s left wrist. This was becoming a common occurrence between the old friends, so it didn’t even warrant a flinch from Tony.

Inside the suit Tony is Iron Man, billionaire weapons developer turned savior of the planet, but outside of the suit he’s just a man. A very wealthy man, of course, but still a human, half-broken and healing from an event that almost cost him his life. 

Outside the confines of the suit, the damage that had been done to Tony was evident. The right side of his body was scarred, still black and disfigured from the surge of power that ran through the gauntlet. Nerve damage extended from his fingertips to his shoulder and up the right side of his face, leaving in its wake a slight droop to his right eye and the corner of his mouth that was likely only noticeable to the people Tony kept closest to himself and a nearly useless arm that Tony kept supported close to his chest in a sling. It was a suggestion from Pepper after the second time she caught him placing his unfeeling hand on a still-hot burner on the stove top. Tony spent countless hours working with Brennan, the resident Physical Therapist to the Avengers, but the best he’d been able to recover in recent months was limited mobility in his elbow and shoulder. His hand and wrist still hung lump from his arm. But he was confident that it was only a matter of time and effort until he’d be back to his old self.

His already weakened heart was left barely beating but intervention from the legendary Dr. Helen Cho returned his heart to cadence, with a promise that the intermittent arrythmias FRIDAY sometimes detected were mostly harmless as well as part and parcel with having an overtaxed organ. In the year or so since the event his body had healed to the extent in which it could, but he now relied heavily on the technology of the suit during battle to compensate for the deficiencies in his body.

Still, Rhodey admired his friend. He’d been willing to sacrifice his life and everything he’d gained – wealth, a beautiful family, a small but close-knit group of friends - to save the world. And he’d made the decision in an instant on the battlefield. If Tony was being honest with himself, Rhodey suspected the young man they’d just pulled out of a crumbling building was the driving source of Tony’s self-sacrificing act, but Rhodey wasn’t sure if Tony had come to that realization for himself yet. 

“GPS puts the jet at twelve or thirteen minutes out, so you need to take a few minutes to pull yourself together. All we can do is wait right now.” 

A quick glance up at his friend showed that Tony was, as usual, paying him no attention. Rhodey knew that there was team tending to Peter on the aircraft, a team in the MedBay waiting to receive Peter’s gurney, and the two of them, stuck in the middle, with no real value to add to the situation and nothing to do but standby. It was the worst position to be in in a moment like this. 

Tony’s eyes were fixed on the green lights above the frame of the landing deck that would flash red in the presence of a landing aircraft. Rhodey’s eyes were fixed on the second’s hand of his watch, as he kept count of the throbs of Tony’s radial artery. 137 beats per minute.

“Tony, your heartrate is too high right now. Take two minutes to breathe or I’m having you escorted back to your apartment.” Tony head whipped around to give Rhodey the nastiest look he’d maybe ever seen in their thirty plus years of friendship.

“Like fuc…” 

“Glad to have your attention,” Rhodey interrupted, the smallest smile he could muster in that moment creeped onto his face. “All I’m asking is for two minutes of controlled breathing before you have to face what’s coming off that jet.” A look of anguish was spread all over Tony’s face.

“God, Rhodey,” Tony spoke as he dragged a shaky left hand through his sweaty hair and down his face, doing his best to calm down his heaving breaths. He placed the free hand over the center of his chest as his shoulders moved in an exaggerated up and down motion to aid in the effort. The shock of the events of the past half hour left him trembling slightly, as he returned his gaze to the lights of the landing deck. Still green.

“What if I killed him?” 

Rhodey had never heard his friend’s voice so soft and it broke something inside of him. 

He walked in front of Tony, his head occupying the space directly in front of Tony’s eyes and blocking his vision of the lights. He brought his right hand up to Tony’s left shoulder, still careful not to touch the damaged right side of his body. “Look at me right now,” and Tony’s eyes flittered to the wall next to the them, unable to maintain eye contact without losing his composure.

“HEY,” Rhodey spoke in a commanding voice and Tony’s eyes snapped back to meet his. Years of military leadership meant he knew how to demand attention. “I have your attention for,” he glanced down at the GPS receiver on his wrist display, “seven more minutes, so listen to me. Listen to me,” he repeated softly. “I don’t know what going to come through that door,” he gestured to the metal doors closing the two of them off from the landing area of the arriving aircraft. “What I do know is that Peter and the team of doctors that are going to fix him need you right now. They’re going to need you to be level-headed and to make decisions.”

“Oh God,” the words slipped out of Tony’s mouth. He’d almost forgotten. After months of taking care of Peter’s cuts and bruises at the tower and more than a few scary moments involving knives and gunshots, May granted Tony power of attorney to make medical decisions for Peter in the moments when she couldn’t be there for him herself. So far he’d dealt with a stab wound, some stiches, a few bullet removals, and a handful of concussions. Those weren’t small things, necessarily, but for an enhanced individual like Peter they weren’t really life or death decisions either. But this. This was something entirely different. “Decisions.”

The only intact pieces of Rhodey’s heart crumbled in that moment.

“Yeah, Tones. Decisions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It means the world to me to hear the nice things you have to say, so please leave comments and feedback if you have any :) Hope you’re all staying happy and healthy.


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